day replica). So, what can you expect on a
show day? Well, hopefully this little article will give you some insight,
from a very narrow perspective, into the looking glass of the big day. (Times may vary depending on the show, organization, weight class,
6:00 a.m. Wake up from your restful night of pre-competition day
sleep. You should be completely energized and downright spunky since
you just got a quality 15 minutes of sleep in between the times when
you were thinking of the exact wording for your victory speech.
6:05 a.m. Reach your ritualistic glass of water that you always have
first thing in the morning, and then realize you won't be having any
of that for another 16 hours or so Oh well, you've only had a tear
drop worth over the last two days anyway, so what's another 16
6:10 a.m. Apply your umpteenth coat of Pro Tan because your last 17
coats can now be found all over your bed sheets.
6:40 a.m. Realize you've got another full hour and a half until
competitor check-in, and that you should have laid in bed a little
longer perfecting your speech.
8:00 a.m. Arrive at competitor check-in for the big weigh-in. You
find the line of orange looking freaks in baggies and take your
position. Steady yourself, the psyche job is about to begin. You now
convince yourself that every single guy (or girl) in that line is
bigger, more cut, more symmetrical, and downright more "better" than
8:30 a.m. You get to the front of the line and proceed to fill out a
form that registers you to be a part of "Organization ABC" for the
next year. They ask such stumpers as your name and your address. If
you knew there was going to be a test, you would have studied,
8:45 a.m. You hand in your form, pay your $50.00 (good for one year
of competitions), hand over your posing music (cued perfectly),
strip down, weigh-in at the lightest weight you've been since sixth
grade, and proceed to the competitors meeting which starts at 9:00
9:45 a.m. You've been sitting in an ice cold auditorium for the last
45 minutes waiting for this meeting to start, continuing to psyche
yourself up. The meeting starts, and the person holding the meeting
(sometimes the head judge, promoter, or custodian) begins. "Joe is
going to demonstrate the mandatory poses for all of you novice
competitors. If any of you have questions, we would be happy to
answer them..." No one asks any questions, even though Joe hit a
front-double biceps shot with his hands on his hips. Oh well...
10:00 a.m. Pre-judging starts. Yeah, right!
10:00 a.m. to 1:00 p.m. Sit around and wait. Sit around and wait a
little longer. Sit around and wait a lot longer.
Almost forgot! You are doing a natural show and you have
to get your polygraph test done in room A.
11:15 a.m. Enter the polygraph testing room. Sit in chair. Psyche
yourself up again. Have 1,217,002 different wires, cuffs, and
general gizmos attached to every orifice on your body. Proceed with
test. "Have you ever taken steroids?" the tester asks. You answer,
"NO!", even though your thinking, "YES!" You think this because last
year when you had your allergies, your doctor prescribed you some
"steroidal nose spray". You now know you have failed the test and
that all of your shaving, posing, painting, etc. will now be for
11:30 a.m. The tester unhooks you from your medieval torture devices
and announces that you passed despite your obvious guilt about the
1:00 p.m. You go backstage to pump-up because your class is up soon.
You see that they have some great equipment back there consisting of
one 5 lb. dumbbell and one flat bench. You have "GŁnter the
Backstage Assistant" apply your posing oil. You position your number
69 properly on your fig leaf, do five push-ups, and line up in your
spot to go onstage.
1:10 p.m. You file onstage and look up. Big mistake! The lights are
so bright that you now feel like Helen Keller in a fig leaf.
1:11 p.m. You begin your quarter turns. You convince yourself that
there is now a mild earthquake occurring because you are shaking so
1:13 p.m. You being your mandatory poses. You proceed to hit the
front-double bicep just as Joe had demonstrated earlier and hear,
"Competitor 69, could you please hit a front double biceps?" You
look to the guy at the left and then to the guy at the right and see
silhouettes of what you should be doing.
1:45 p.m. You catch a break and after only 35
minutes, the judges
allow you to exit stage right.
1:46 p.m. You realize they never called you for your 60 second
routine that you had practiced for roughly 200 hours to perfect. Oh,
yeah, they announced in the competitor meeting that they were
dropping those routines due the number of competitors.
1:46 p.m. - 7:00 p.m. You go back to your hotel and chill. You grab
another tear drop worth of H20 (hey, you've earned it). You grab
another 15 minutes of peaceful slumber. You convince yourself you
are not in the top five and you won't be able to perform your
routine at the night show. You break up with your
girlfriend/boyfriend/husband/wife/dog because she/he/he/she/it has
finally had it!
7:00 p.m. You arrive at the venue and proceed to follow the same
procedure as you did from 10:00 a.m. to 1:00 p.m. skipping, of
course, the lie detector ordeal.
10:00 p.m. You go backstage to pump up again, but this time you were
smart and brought your own Exertube. Now you'll really get a pump.
10:15 p.m. You take your place in line and file onstage. They have
you hit a couple of poses for the crowd (along with your
co-competitors), and file you back off. "Billy the Backstage
Assistant #2", announces the top five in your weight class, and you
made it, and oh, by the way, get your butt onstage and do your
routine because you're first up.
10:20 p.m. You get your butt back onstage and stumble through a
sloppy rendition of the routine you had perfected just yesterday.
You think to yourself as you are posing, "Maybe I shouldn't have
chosen "Lost In Your Eyes" by Debbie Gibson as my posing music.". Oh
well, the crowd seems entertained.
10:35 p.m. They file you back onstage to accept your trophies. They
announce, "In fifth place we have Fabulous Fred," clap clap clap.
"In fourth place we have Awesome Al," clap clap clap. "In third
place we have Terrific Ted," clap clap clap. You now realize you
don't have a trophy yet and think to yourself, "They must have
screwed up and let six of us pose tonight." They announce, "In second
place, Bicep Bob. And your Heavyweight Champion tonight is Quad
10:40 p.m. You give your acceptance speech that you had perfected
this afternoon. It goes, "Thank you!"
10:41 p.m. You exit once again and "Billy the Backstage Assistant
#2" commands that you line up behind the Light-Heavyweight winner
for the overall. You see a mirage in the distance that looks like
water. You start crawling towards it. You're getting closer. Closer.
Closer. You snap out of it just in time to get your legs to
transport you onstage.
10:45 p.m. Once again you do your quarter turns. Once again you do
your mandatory poses. This time you get the front-double biceps
right. You think to yourself, "There must be some type of aftershock
going on right now."
11:00 p.m. You participate in a crowd arousing pose down with the
other class winners.
11:02 p.m. The announcer has the decision, "Your overall winner of
the 2000 NBNFARAAAA Northwestern Bi-Annual Tri-States One Year Drug
Tested Bodybuilding Competition is.... Quad Todd!
11:03 p.m. You experience extreme anxiety because you realize you
must now give a second speech. You muster up this outstanding repeat
performance, "Thank you!"
11:05 p.m. You file offstage and "Billy the Backstage Assistant #2"
shakes your hand and congratulates you. He also hands you a brownie.
You say to yourself, Toddy likey Brownie." You jam that sucker in
your mouth. You gag like nobody has ever gagged before. You realize
you have absolutely no saliva in your mouth. You chug a gallon of
11:20 p.m. You arrive at the local pizza parlor, slam down a large
pepperoni, a tall cool beer, and another gallon of water.
11:59p.m. Contest day is over. Tomorrow you shall rest.
Todd Opheim, NGA Pro Bodybuilder